


We Know Some Things (But Not All)

by LadyBrooke



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-04
Updated: 2018-09-04
Packaged: 2019-07-06 16:29:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15889776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyBrooke/pseuds/LadyBrooke
Summary: Celebrimbor is seeking something, though Maeglin does not know what. Celebrimbor sees too much of his family's mistakes in Maeglin. Together, they dig a tunnel.





	We Know Some Things (But Not All)

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [A Place To Stay](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/414267) by Nelyasun. 



> Written for the Tolkien Reverse Summer Bang 2018. 
> 
> Also inspired, at least for the ending, by the SWG's Discovery Challenge.

“And what are you doing?” Maeglin asked, stepping out from the shadows of the halls and staring at where Celebrimbor knelt on the floor, examining the wall.

Celebrimbor looked up for only a second, before glancing back towards the wall. “What do you think I am doing?”

“Looking for an escape path, it appears, though I do not know why. Even if you could make it out of these Halls, the elves who dwell in Valinor would not let you live in peace. You’d have to hide in some obscure part of Valinor, unless you found some supporters who would hide you,” Maeglin said. “Do you seek such a life?”

“I do not seek to dwell among elves, nor to hide in the outskirts of Valinor,” Celebrimbor said.

“Then what do you seek?” Maeglin stepped closer.

Celebrimbor laughed. “Another set of Halls. A friend or two. Those who would have me as I am, without regard for who my father or grandfather are. My past, I suppose, and a new future.” He looked at Maeglin. “And what do you seek, grandson of Fingolfin?”

Maeglin startled at the term. “I do not think Fingolfin would appreciate you referring to me as such.”

“Fingolfin’s appreciation is something I seldom had the pleasure of in life, and do not look for in death,” Celebrimbor said. “But neither do I think he would be as displeased as you assume he would.”

“I betrayed his son to his death,” Maeglin responded, refusing to think of the rest.

Celebrimbor paused. “And my grandfather betrayed Fingolfin himself and doomed scores of Fingolfin’s host to death on the ice, including Turgon’s wife. Yet, Fingolfin appeared before Námo to argue for my grandfather, father, and uncles to not face eternal darkness. Do you think your deeds worse than my family’s?”

Maeglin took an unnecessary breath. “I think I fell further and had better knowledge of what my deeds would do.”

“I have found that one’s grandfather can cast as large a shadow over one’s existence as one’s father can, and lead elves astray in attempts to live up to them,” Celebrimbor said. “You would be wise to not borrow further doubt by comparing yourself to Fingolfin.”

“They say you made your rings to achieve the same status as your grandfather,” Maeglin said and then froze. “I meant-”

“I know what they say,” Celebrimbor said. “You were young when you died, and I don’t think elves really age in these Halls unless they accept all their failings.” He continued working at the wall.

“I have accepted my failings,” Maeglin spat.

“You’ve accepted your failing deeds and what you see as your failings in thought. I don’t think you’ve accepted all the things that led you astray.” Celebrimbor struck the wall and waited a moment, before shaking his head. “Not here.”

“What do you mean, not here?” Maeglin ignored the initial comment.

“That this is not the spot I’m looking for,” Celebrimbor said.

“But what are you looking for?” Maeglin asked.

“I already told you.” Celebrimbor stood from the floor. “If you want more hints, I suppose you’ll have to find me the next time I’m looking.”

“I will.” Maeglin lifted his jaw.

Celebrimbor smiled. “You should think about what I said, too. I know Fingolfin always wanted a grandson in addition to his granddaughter.”   

“Then hopefully one of his children will give him one after they are reborn,” Maeglin said. “The traitor of Gondolin cannot be the grandson of the High King of the Noldor.”

Celebrimbor shrugged. “The Kinslayer is the son of the First King of the Noldor. I do not think the traitor of Gondolin is that much worse that would be thrown out of the family.”

Maeglin opened his mouth to respond, but Celebrimbor had already started down the twisting hallways, disappearing into the darkness.

 

“So, you’ve found me again.” Celebrimbor did not look up from the wall. “Did you think about what I said?”

Maeglin scowled. “You did not let me respond last time.”

“I thought it best to give you time to reflect before you responded. Of course, that only works if decided to take the time I gave you to do so.” Celebrimbor tapped the wall and frowned.

“Are you trying to build a tunnel out of the Halls?” Maeglin asked.

“Are you trying to avoid my questions?” Celebrimbor raised a brow, twisting to look at Maeglin. “Or do you not realize that’s what you’re doing?”

Maeglin scowled again. “I do not see why I should answer your questions. It is not as though it will do any good. I’m fated to remain here forever, even if I did change.”

“The Valar did not even keep Morgoth imprisoned forever the first time they locked him up. I see no reason why they would do so to you.” Celebrimbor turned back to the wall.

“I betrayed Gondolin,” Maeglin said.

“And Turgon refused to listen to Ulmo, as I hear the tale told,” Celebrimbor answered. “Even if that part is not true, Turgon rebelled the same as the rest of us when he left.  Who knows what the Valar think about Gondolin’s fall?”

 “Why do you care so much about my fate?” Maeglin stepped closer. “We’re not close kin or friends.”

Celebrimbor paused. “We could have been friends, had things been different. If my father and Uncle had been there when your mother passed through with you, or had she ridden for her father’s court instead, we likely would have met. Even if not for that, I hate to see any elf refuse to learn from past mistakes. It has a tendency to end badly for us.”

Maeglin blinked. “I thought you lived apart from your father.”

“Only after Nargothrond fell, and that was some years later. I kept some contact with him until after the kinslaying in Doriath. I would have heard of you, at the very least, and likely things would have gone quite differently.” Celebrimbor tapped the floor.

“Why would things have likely gone quite differently just because my mother and I didn’t go to Gondolin?” Maeglin took a seat on the floor, propping his head in his hands to watch Celebrimbor.

“Leaving aside the personal relationships of everyone involved, politically it would have changed matters with Doriath. Your father was acknowledged as Thingol’s kin. There are many ways Fingolfin – or Fingon, if your grandfather still died – could have used that to improve matters for the Noldor,” Celebrimbor looked at him. “We had no real idea what happened until after Gondolin fell, by which point it was too late for anything to be done.”

“So, I would have been valued and you would have been friendly because it was politically useful?” Maeglin picked at the floor.

“I would have been friendly because I know what it is like to be the grandson of one of the sons of Finwë. Your grandfather and uncle would have valued you because they genuinely care about their entire family, which you do count as,” Celebrimbor answered. “But yes, your situation would have been used for political advantages. That’s part of being a prince.”

“It doesn’t seem that way, looking at history. It seems as though everything was straight forward,” Maeglin said.

“You see history as it was written much later. I assure you, all of us were pawns in some way in Valinor. Look at the father names in my family – they all end in -finwë because Grandfather wanted to make a point to your grandfather.” Celebrimbor shrugged. “That doesn’t mean that he didn’t also deeply love all his sons.”

Maeglin slowly nodded, and then looked back at the wall. “So, what are you trying to do?”

Celebrimbor smiled. “You still haven’t figured it out? I’ll give you another clue, in that case: I’m not the first person you’ve known who has tried to do this, though my end point is different.”

Maeglin looked down in thought for a moment. When he lifted his head, Celebrimbor was gone again.

 

“Why are you trying to build a tunnel?” Maeglin stepped forward, glancing at Celebrimbor’s work on the wall.

“To reach what is on the other side of it,” Celebrimbor answered, tapping a pattern into the rock.

Maeglin took a breath. “And what is on the other side of it?”

“What I want to reach, of course,” Celebrimbor said.

“You are incredibly aggravating.” Maeglin took a seat. “Does Námo know that you are trying to create a tunnel in his Halls?”

“I believe he chooses not to know.” Celebrimbor shifted a tapestry, nodding when it covered his work. Moving it back from the hole, he began to chip away at it again.

Maeglin looked at the wall. “Why does he choose not to know?”

“I believe he has a soft spot for certain cases, and apparently mine is one of those,” Celebrimbor finally responded.

Maeglin nodded and watched him work, falling into silence.

They continued like that for several hours, before Celebrimbor spoke. “Have you considered my words about your grandfather?”

“He spends much of his time with Turgon. I do not think I would be welcome.”

“He spends much of his time with Turgon because after Argon’s rebirth, Turgon is the one of his children most separated from the rest of the family. Fingon and Aredhel spend much of their time with various cousins,” Celebrimbor said. “Turgon spends much of his time reflecting on the past, with Elenwë and Finrod reborn and Idril never having entered the Halls. Fingolfin feels a need to support him.”

“It is impossible to support both Turgon and myself. Turgon would see it as a betrayal.” Maeglin ran a hand through his hair. “I cannot blame him for that.”

“Fingolfin has learned much from his own childhood. He would likely tell you it is also a betrayal to focus only on one relative to the neglect of another.” Celebrimbor chipped away at the wall.

“My situation with Turgon is not comparable to what happened between Finwë and his sons,” Maeglin said.

“It is not the same, but that does not preclude Fingolfin from seeing lessons to be learned from how he grew up. He would spend time with you, even if to know you.”

“Then his efforts would be in vain, for I am naught but a traitor.”

“You were a traitor. At the same time, you were renowned as a great smith in Gondolin as well, and one devoted to his mother. You fought in one of the great battles at a much younger age than most of the rest of our family,” Celebrimbor paused.

Maeglin shook his head. “It does not matter.”

“The Valar are sending Olórin to Middle-earth to fight Sauron. I am given to understand that he refuses to cast either my Grandfather or myself away as elves who doomed countless elves and men to death.” Celebrimbor continued to chip away at the wall as he spoke, hitting it in a calm rhythm that did not match Maeglin’s mood. “We cannot control how others see us, even if we might wish to remain the villains of the story.”

“That does not mean that we actually are how others see us.”

“It does not mean we are how we see ourselves, either.”

“You don’t see yourself as a villain,” Maeglin said.

“I see myself as a fool who fell into the schemes of a Dark Lord who now could take over all of Middle-earth and kill every elf who remains on those shores, including the scant family I have left still alive, and end the line of Kings of Men that has continued since my Uncle’s foster-son became the first King of Númenor.” Celebrimbor chipped away at a stone. “Apparently, not everyone views me that way, though I am given to understand some others do.”

“You realized your mistakes and stood before the doors to oppose him,” Maeglin argued. “I watched your stand on one of the tapestries.”

“A valiant effort that did very little good. Sauron could still conquer Middle-earth due to my earlier actions.”

“He could still be defeated, as well. And at least you did not originally know he was evil.”

“Elrond warned me he should not be trusted, as did Gil-galad. Celeborn came to beg me to not trust him – ‘Maiar have appeared on these shores before and brought nothing but death to my people, Tyelpe, Melian was the exception, not the rule. Do not cast your lot in with his merely because he promises you knowledge from Valinor.’ Celebrimbor paused in his work.

“I threw my friend’s advice to the side and told him that the Noldor had been closer to the Maiar than the Sindar ever could be, it was natural that they would come to help us in our time of repentance. And so my city fell and Middle-earth was cast into war.”

Maeglin was silent.

Celebrimbor placed the tapestry in front of the beginning of the tunnel. “If you will not speak to Fingolfin, speak to Fingon. He is commonly found with Maedhros and will not cast you aside because of evil actions.”

Maeglin nodded silently, causing Celebrimbor to smile crookedly and leave.

 

“Would you like help digging your tunnel?” Maeglin stepped around the corner, lugging tools over his shoulder.

“I would have thought you would like to know where it goes first,” Celebrimbor said, pausing his work.

“Do you think that because I keep asking you questions about it or because my prior experiences with tunnels were in Gondolin?” Maeglin responded.

“Both, and neither.” Celebrimbor resumed his work. “Mainly I thought you would want to know because you don’t seem the sort to offer your help without knowing all the possible outcomes, especially after your past.”

Maeglin shook his head. “I trust you to not be a dark lord in hiding, and that is my only real concern.” He sat his tools down and began to work on the wall.

After a moment, he spoke without pausing his work. “I spoke with Fingon yesterday.”

“Oh?” Celebrimbor did not pause his work either, merely turning his head briefly to look at Maeglin.

“It went well, I think. Mother wasn’t there, it seems Celegorm and Curufin stick to other portions of the Halls, and she stays with them. I’m glad for her,” Maeglin said, hitting the wall forcefully.

“Are you?” Celebrimbor raised a brow at the crumbling wall.

“I am,” he said. “I just…I wish she would spend time with me. I suppose I remind her too much of Father, and I remind Father too much of Mother.”

“Do you spend time with anyone other than me?” Celebrimbor asked.

“Fingon,” Maeglin responded. “Maedhros was there as well, and the Ambarussa stayed to greet me.”

“You only met them yesterday.”

“Prior to that, the only elves I knew were from Gondolin. They will not welcome me.”

“Did they welcome you at any point?” Celebrimbor asked.

“Some did. Turgon accepted me as his nephew, so some felt the need to include me on that basis. I had friends, before I led them to their deaths.” Maeglin took a breath. “I would not force myself on them now.”

“They may forgive you one day,” Celebrimbor said.

“I do not see how they could.”

“You would need to ask Fingon that question, for he has forgiven much that Maedhros and the rest of my family did,” Celebrimbor said. “But many of my friends have forgiven me, and I doubt you are exceptional in that regard.”

“If your friends have forgiven you, why are we here digging a tunnel?”

Celebrimbor continued his work. “Because I seek what lies at the end of the tunnel, and the presence of my friends does not keep me from doing so.”

“Will I ever get to know what’s at the end of the tunnel?”

“When we reach the end of the tunnel,” Celebrimbor said. “How did your meeting with Fingon go?”

“He welcomed me as his nephew and said I should have come far sooner.” Maeglin moved some stone to the side, looking at the rapidly expanding tunnel.

“Did he say anything about Fingolfin?”

Maeglin glared over his shoulder. “The same as you. I should speak to Fingolfin, who would be glad to know me.”

“Will you?” Celebrimbor tapped on the wall.

“Perhaps,” Maeglin said.

They worked in silence for some time, before both stood and left.

 

“This tunnel seems to be outpacing our expectations for how quickly it would be done,” Maeglin said, looking back towards the tapestry. “Do you work on it all the time?”

Celebrimbor shook his head. “I have no wish to attract the attention of every elf in these Halls, so I must pace myself. Perhaps the walls respond to their master’s wishes.”

“You think Námo wishes you to complete the tunnel from his Halls quicker?” Maeglin did not even try to keep the doubt out of his voice.

“I believe he pities me, and in this case I will take his pity if it allows me to reach my end swiftly,” Celebrimbor said, picking up his tool and hitting the wall.

Maeglin moved to work beside him. “I have yet to speak to Fingolfin.”

“You should speak to him. You cannot know how he will react until after you have spoken to him,” Celebrimbor responded.

“I do not wish to cause problems,” Maeglin said.

“What problems do you think you will cause?”

“Everyone knows Turgon left to found Gondolin in part because he did not want to remain among those he blamed for his wife’s death, and he and Fingon argued bitterly over his friendships. Mother left to support him, but now she remains with your Uncle and Father. Fingolfin is the only family member Turgon has left,” Maeglin said. “I took Turgon’s city and his life, I will not take Fingolfin.”

“You could not take Fingolfin from him. Fingolfin is too wise to be led astray by you into anything he does not wish to do. Turgon can only take himself away by refusing to accept that people he holds dear can interact with people he does not wish them to.”

“I cannot do that to Turgon.”

“Very well,” Celebrimbor said.

“That’s it? You’re not going to argue with me anymore that I should see Fingolfin?”

“You’ve made your choice, and at the very least you are now seeing Fingon. That will have to do.” Celebrimbor tossed a rock down the passage.

Maeglin sighed in relief and started to collect the rocks that were left in the way.

“Of course, that does not mean that Fingolfin will not seek you out himself,” Celebrimbor said.

“Why would he seek me out?” Maeglin startled and dropped the rocks.

“You are in contact with Fingon. Even if you vanished and had no more contact with him, Fingolfin would still hear about that. Once he does, he will not be able to stop himself from finding you.” Celebrimbor looked at his friend. “You might have lit a signal flare and sent a letter that you were willing to see your family, in terms of getting Fingolfin’s attention.”

“Surely he has more to occupy his time than trying to speak with me?” Maeglin asked.

“There are few of the duties that occupied his time as king to be found here, nor indeed the ones that occupied him as a young prince in Valinor,” Celebrimbor said. “Fingolfin has always felt the need to occupy his time.”

“Surely he can spend time with his former subjects, or his father, or indeed anyone else. Why me?” Maeglin asked.

“Because you are his grandson, and he wishes to know you. He already knows everyone else he would wish to know that dwells in these Halls, and few are so dear to his heart as his family.

Celebrimbor lifted a hand as Maeglin opened his mouth to speak. “The one thing my grandfather and Fingolfin have always had in common is an absolute devotion to their descendants. I doubt you can convince Fingolfin to change his mind, as you are about to suggest.”

“Why must everyone be so stubborn about including me?” Maeglin asked.

“Because this family is based entirely on stubbornness and family. It will be far easier for you if you just give in now and accept Fingolfin’s attention.”

Maeglin chipped away at the stone instead.

Celebrimbor joined him. “I promise it will work out as well as anything in this family does.”

“That is not entirely reassuring,” Maeglin grumbled, but continued to work.  

 

“I assume Fingolfin found you,” Celebrimbor said, moving over in the tunnel as Maeglin came closer.

Maeglin nodded silently, taking up the spot next to Celebrimbor and beginning to work.

“Did it not go well?” Celebrimbor asked.

Maeglin just shook his head, continuing to chip away at the stone.

Celebrimbor looked at him and then put down his tools. “Let’s take a break for a moment.”

“The sooner we finish this, the sooner we can find what you are seeking,” Maeglin said, continuing to hit the stone.

Celebrimbor grabbed his hands. “Only if you don’t bring the stone down on our heads, which at the moment you appear ready to do.”

“We’re already in the Halls. It won’t kill us,” Maeglin snapped.

“No, but it will ruin my tunnel, so we’re going to take a break and talk calmly about what has upset you,” Celebrimbor said. “Now, was Fingolfin cruel to you?”

Maeglin shook his head. “No. He was kind.”

“Did someone else speak to you?”

“Just Fingon and Maedhros.”

“Was either of them cruel to you?” Celebrimbor sat back, pulling Maeglin with him.

“No, they were kind too.”

“Then what went wrong?” Celebrimbor asked.

Maeglin sat still. “It… I… I have spent the last age virtually alone in these Halls. And now everyone seems to expect me to fit into this happy family, when all I have done in my life is sit on the outskirts of one. I do not know what to do.”

Celebrimbor took a breath. “Next time start with that. It is very confusing to wonder why you’re so upset when I know the people you have spoken to.

He kept an arm around Maeglin’s shoulders. “Now, nobody really knows how to fit into a family if they are trying to do so as an adult. All anyone expects you to do is talk to them.”

“That is the problem, though,” Maeglin said.

Celebrimbor took another breath. “I know, Maeglin. I know. It is hard to go from being alone to suddenly being surrounded by family, and harder in your case than mine. I, at least, had friends and distant relatives remaining after I was adrift from my family. But you cannot find your family unless you let yourself have contact with them.”

“But what if I say something wrong?”

“Then you say something wrong,” Celebrimbor said. “Do you think that either Fingon or Fingolfin is unused to relatives saying the wrong thing? My grandfather threatened Fingolfin with a sword, and they still manage to speak peacefully a few times a year here.”

“I am not Fëanor.”

“Neither am I, and I think many people are grateful for that fact.” Celebrimbor smiled. “Perhaps Fingolfin more than anyone, I don’t think he wants another half-brother anymore than Grandfather wants another Fingolfin. Things are going well, not perfectly.”

Maeglin let out a brief laugh. “Perhaps, but that still doesn’t answer the question of how I cope with this.”

“You take it slowly,” Celebrimbor said. “We have nothing but time. Don’t feel like you have to be a perfect fit today.”

“I cannot spend as much time with them as they want.” Maeglin picked at his robe. “I do not think I can bring myself to spend that much time around others, when I have gone so long alone.”

“Tell them that. They’re exuberant, especially Fingon, not unreasonable. If you don’t try to hide away entirely, they’ll give you your space.” Celebrimbor slowly released his hold on Maeglin and picked up his own tools. “Perhaps we can start this again, without almost collapsing the tunnel in on itself?”

Maeglin nodded. “That would be embarrassing to explain to everyone.”

“It would, and I don’t think either of us wants the attention it would bring,” Celebrimbor said.

Maeglin picked up his tools and set to work.

Hours passed in silence, before Maeglin spoke. “How much longer do you think it will take us to finish the tunnel?”

Celebrimbor knocked on the wall again and smiled at the noise. “Not very long, and then you will see what I long for.”

“How long have you been seeking this?” Maeglin asked.

Celebrimbor looked at the wall. “Since we were separated, long before I came to these Halls.”

Maeglin frowned. “Should we continue until we find finish, in that case?”

Celebrimbor shook his head. “No, we’ll break for the time and finish tomorrow. Another few hours will not make a difference, and I would not want to rush the work at this point.”

“If you are sure,” Maeglin said.

“I am.” Celebrimbor paused to look back as they existed the tunnel.

 

“I suppose this is our final day working the tunnel.” Maeglin walked down the tunnel, which appeared to one more stretch farther than it had the previous evening. “I think I will miss it.”

“You can always dig more tunnels of your own and see what secrets you can discover,” Celebrimbor said.

Maeglin laughed.

Celebrimbor stepped forward to work on the wall, but a loud thud came from the other side.

Maeglin reached forward and grabbed Celebrimbor back, yanking him back down the tunnel as the last of the wall crumbled into dust.

When the dust cleared, there was a dwarf.

“I grew tired of waiting for you to finish your tunnel, Tyelpe,” the dwarf said.

“You would have waited longer, Narvi, if I had not had help digging my way here. You know how I am with projects, always studying to make sure I have done things correctly before I actually put my plan into being.” Celebrimbor stooped down as he spoke, pulling Narvi close.

Maeglin watched them for a moment, before turning to walk back the tunnel.

“Stay, Master Elf,” Narvi called after him. “Tyelpe forgets where he is sometimes, but I would not have you leave my lodgings before you are content to.”

Celebrimbor nodded. “Stay with us as long as you wish, Maeglin. It would keep you from having to deal with too many elves, at the least.”

Maeglin hesitated. “You must wish to have time to yourselves.”

“And you seem to wish to have time to yourself,” Narvi said. “My lodgings are big enough that you may stay with us without us all being in constant contact.”

“Take the time to relax before you go back and deal with your family again,” Celebrimbor suggested. “If you seek solitude at times, you can find that here. If you wish to forget your past for a time, there are no elves other than me, as far as I know.”

He looked at Narvi as he finished speaking.

Narvi nodded. “Unless another elf from your Halls finds that tapestry and looks behind it to find the tunnel, you two are the only elves to find your way here. There should be all the peace you could wish for.”

Maeglin let out a breath. “I will stay for now. Long enough to prepare myself to meet Fingolfin again, and then I will go back.”

“You’ll be welcome here at any point,” Narvi said. “Tyelpe will have to go back as well, if only so these Halls do not end up overrun with all the Noldor currently in the Halls of Mandos do not descend here in the course of searching for him.”

“I will,” Celebrimbor said. “But it doesn’t have to be forever, in either place. We can keep this a place where we aren’t beholden to all the bad things we have done in our pasts, Maeglin.”

Maeglin nodded. “If you are sure, I think I will come here sometimes.”

Narvi laughed. “I am not in the habit of offering things I am unsure of. I find it a tedious waste of time that I could spend crafting, or indeed anything else.”

“I hope you will spend some time with me, not just crafting,” Celebrimbor added.

“And here I hoped you would join me in my forge again, so that I may keep an eye on you,” Narvi said.

Maeglin bit his lip.

“She does not mean because of the rings,” Celebrimbor said. “Indeed, she has wished to keep an eye on me in the forge since we met, though I do not know the reason why.”

“I wished to keep an eye on you because you have the worst habit of neglecting your own safety if you feel it would benefit your art – and unlike we dwarves, you elves are prone to catching yourselves on fire.”

“Technically, my grandfather was killed by a balrog,” Celebrimbor said.

“Technically, you burnt your hair three inches shorter five minutes prior to our meeting, when you neglected to tie it back in your rush to try out some new theory of how to twist metals to form a circlet that looked like the branches of a tree,” Narvi retorted.

Celebrimbor shrugged. “It did work.”

“And your hair looked like the burnt remains of a forest fire.”

Maeglin laughed. “I should probably take my leave. I suspect Fingon will come looking for me soon, since I left our meeting in such haste.”

“You know the way back,” Narvi said. “Even if Celebrimbor is in the Halls of Mandos, feel free to visit. Especially if you know proper safety measures in the forge.”

“You wound me,” Celebrimbor said to her. “I do agree with her that you should feel free to visit whenever you wish. I would not have let you stay with me while I dug it if I did not trust you.”

“Thank you,” Maeglin said and left, ducking back down the tunnel to where he had come from, laughter echoing behind him.

 


End file.
